As the Rain Falls: From the Journal of Mary Kelly
by The Muses
Summary: From Hell Another diary style fanfiction. This time about Mary Kelly focusing on the end of the movie.


As the Rain Falls: From the Journal of Mary Kelly  
By: Thea  
Summary: Another diary style fanfiction. This time about Mary Kelly focusing on the end of the movie.  
Rating: G  
  
Why does it seem that no matter what happens to me in my life...I'm always left with questions. Ones that I can never seem to find an answer to. I suppose it's just the way my life has always been. Not that long ago. Before the killings started, I questioned where I would find the money to eat...or I questioned where I would sleep.   
  
But, now...I have different questions floating around my brain. These ones though, they seem so much more important than all the others. I question the idea of me sending such a letter to Fred and I also question if he'll respond. Beyond that, I question in what way he would respond. Will he come to my call? Can he hear my hearts silent pleas for him? Even over the distance now between us?  
  
These questions I surely could not answer. The fact that I have no power in this is agitating. I have never been the type of person to sit on my hands when the time calls me to action. If I don't do something soon I fear I shall go mad with anxiousness, if that is at all possible.  
  
So I sit here at my small writing desk inside the cozy cottage I share with the ever growing Baby Anna who as I write this sleeps soundly in peaceful abandon. Unknowing of the evil things in this world. I find it quite sad that I should raise her in such a world. You wonder how you can teach them to be good people when the world whispers evil thoughts and temptations into their ears. Calling to them like sirens that lured men to their death upon sharp rocks.   
  
But, I suppose there are good things to be found within this world too. I can't help but smile for this thought reminds me of my Frederick. Yes, he is indeed proof that there are good people in this world. I suppose when one has lived the life that I have it becomes difficult to find the good in people. After a while you meet so many people of questionable personality that you truly learn to think that every member of the human race is jaded somehow stilted...Mere un-pure beings with un-pure thoughts and feelings.   
  
Yet, somehow, he has managed to change years of that sort of thinking merely by existing merely by being who he is. I don't think he could give me a more precious gift than that, but, yet still more than that he has given me.  
  
He has taught me how to feel again. After all those years of repressed feelings. Of selling myself on the streets just to manage to get by in the harsh reality I lived in. Every day I worked a part of me died over and over again. I think perhaps that was the worst part of my life. That was what killed my innocence...not once but over and over. That part of me that still dared to hope that perhaps love could exist in such a world as this. That love could be a pure and beautiful thing, a star in the sea of darkness we all live in.   
  
That is the greatest gift he has ever given me. Even greater than this place. This peaceful cottage where I may get my chance at the peaceful life I never dared to hope for. Yes, the gift of learning to feel and love was most certainly the most precious and special gift I received from him.  
  
But, this brings me back to the letter I sent to him not more than just an afternoon ago. Though the anxiousness in my soul has made it seem like a fortnight at least. I pray that will come...I don't know what to do without him. That is to say I of course know how to get along by myself but, now...I don't want to be alone anymore. I want him here, beside me...to let me return the gift of love to his own half-mended heart.   
  
I never really thought about want I wanted before. My life has never been about luxury. It's always been about needs about what was necessary. There was no time for luxuries in life. No room for frilly dresses or carriages. Not time for love or human emotion. No, there was only time for work...for getting by. For surviving, that was the game and I knew how to play. How else could I still be alive today after all I've encountered?  
  
Now, I dare to hope for a new life. A life with luxuries with extras like a home, a child...and love. Yes, the most beautiful luxury of all. It seems so close within my grasp yet....there is something dark within me that whispers doubts and fears into my ears like the phantom of some childhood nightmare. There is part of me that dares not hope for a happy ending. I've never had a happy ending before, what makes me so sure that I shall have one now?   
  
I find I cannot seem to answer this question either. I suppose it's just one more to add to the list.   
  
It's raining outside, I can't help but think that may not be the best of omens. Or perhaps that's just me looking at the world in the negative light. I can never be sure anymore. Anyway, I feel I must leave you before I drive myself mad with these thoughts. So, until next I write. I listen as the rain falls and wait for my love. Come whatever may.  
  
Your Companion,  
Mary Kelly  
  
Inspector Frederick Abberline is dead. I think my life ended when I read those words. At least if it didn't end literally as I am still breathing but...I think a part of me that he brought back to life has just died all over again. My world in lost in shadow now...I'm lost. And this time...I don't have a map nor helping hand to lead me back to the light. Perhaps I am destined never to find my light again...  
  
My world still spins from the news. I cannot believe this news...I do not want to believe this news. How can the man that made my spirit come alive in so many ways be now as cold and lifeless as all the friends I lost. Why must I be forced to bear this punishment? I wonder if there is any justice in the world and cannot help but think that there is no justice in this world. Perhaps, I shall find it in the next but...I am sure there is none here. For if there were any justice in this world my Frederick would be alive and we would be together. I would not have him brought to some cold wooden box and thrown into the ground to rot away as people forget he ever existed in the first place. How can this be defined as justice?  
  
I wonder why God above has punished me so. I wonder fi ti si for selling my body. Who knows anymore...but, I am sure he has something against me. For how can one person bear so much tragedy in such a small span of time. What could possibly be left in my life after this? Why should I go on? I know why as I hear the baby give a soft cry in the other room before growing quiet once more. There is still work to be done...more life to be lived..   
  
Though my heart screams in agony within my chest I am composed even as violent tears are coaxed from my unwilling eyes and I see as they fall unto the page I write upon. Spattering the black ink of my handwriting. Forever staining my words with the grief that wracks my body with pain beyond anything I have ever felt before.  
  
The only thing I can think of is, Why? But there is another question that comes to mind. Cliche as it may be. Was it better for me to have loved and lost or, to never have loved at all? I find in typical fashion that I cannot answer these questions either. Perhaps I shall write again when I find my answer...  
  
Farewell,  
Mary Kelly


End file.
